Property of Molly Prewett
by strawberrypotter123
Summary: Molly keeps a diary to chronicle her sixth year at Hogwarts, all the while trying to pass her N.E.W.T.s, snag a boyfriend and keep the twins out of her (very red) hair.
1. Amelia Needs Some Sleep

_A/N: This is all a bit new for me, but I've always thought a Molly Weasley diary would be a fun project. So after debating whether the diary should be kept while she was at Hogwarts or at home raising children, I ultimately decided that Hogwarts would be a little more fun to write about. Please review!_

_this diary is property of_

**Molly Prewett**

Sixth Year, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

_If found, please return to Gryffindor Common Room (please!)_

August 31st

**9:00 pm**

I'm really hoping we learn some Unforgivable Curses in Defence Against the Dark Arts this year, because I am just about ready to _kill_ Fabian and Gid. I've only just gotten my books from Flourish and Blotts, but already, they've managed to put a spell on them that translates the whole lot of them into runes. Runes! Mum's in the kitchen trying to fix them, muttering some curses under her breath (both the magical kind and the expletives, I'm sure).

Sixth year is supposed to be the best year at Hogwarts. N.E.W.T.s are still a year away, and there's supposed to be loads of extra free time. But I can already tell, the twins are going to ruin it. Don't ask me how, but they'll find a way. Mum's no help either. Since the summer before first year, I've been complaining that they find some way to torture me endlessly during the school year. And this time, she's said the same bloody thing she always says. "Fabian and Gideon are going to be in their _n_th year, they'll be too busy to harass you, Molly,"

I've heard it all before. I had hoped my evening would be better because of our traditional back-to-Hogwarts family dinner. Unfortunately, Aunt Muriel stopped by as well. She particularly enjoyed the treacle tart, making disparaging remarks about my hair, and commenting on the lack of men interested in me. She also proceeded to fawn over the twins and gave a very passionate, sermonic speech about how they would carry on the Prewett family name. It very quickly morphed into a history lesson on the Sacred-Twenty Eight pureblood families in Britain, which she concluded with, "Anyway Molly, your hair…"

Uncle Ignatius was also there, and we all had a rather awkward conversation about future plans while Mum and Dad were washing the dishes in the kitchen. I can't recall it exactly, but it went something like this:

Ignatius: Fabian, Gideon, what are you thinking about doing in regards to career selection?

Fabian: Aurors, we're thinking. We've talked to Professor McGonagall, that's the new Head of Gryffindor, and we just need five N.E.W.T.s with Es, so I reckon—

Muriel: Glorified profession, if you ask me. Here's my advice, boys. Get yourself a nice, quiet job at the Ministry. I've got an old friend at the Department of International Magical Cooperation and he says—

Gideon: Right, well—

Muriel: What about you, Molly?

Me: Well, I was thinking of being a Healer, but—

Muriel: (laughs) Merlin, Molly, do you have the marks to be a Healer? I don't think St. Mungo's would be very impressed with a failing student, would they?

Me: I—

Muriel: Your mother told me you didn't get a single O or E on any of your O.W.L.s. Is that—

Me: No, that's not—

Muriel: Molly, hasn't anyone told you that it is most impolite to interrupt?

Gideon: We keep trying to tell her, but she never seems to understand.

At some point, I couldn't take it any longer and I excused myself from the dinner table and stormed upstairs. As I'm writing this, I suppose I shouldn't have taken it all so personally. It's Muriel, after all. We got our O.W.L.s a few days before, and they were hardly failing.

ORDINARY WIZARDING LEVEL RESULTS

_Pass Grades_

OUTSTANDING (O)

EXCEEDS EXPECTATIONS (E)

ACCEPTABLE (A)

_Fail Grades_

POOR (P)

DREADFUL (D)

TROLL (T)

Molly Callidora Prewett

has achieved

ANCIENT RUNES: **O**

ARITHMANCY: **A**

ASTRONOMY: **A**

CARE OF MAGICAL CREATURES: **A**

CHARMS: **O**

DEFENCE AGAINST THE DARK ARTS: **E**

DIVINATION: **A**

HERBOLOGY: **E**

HISTORY OF MAGIC: **P**

POTIONS: **E**

TRANSFIGURATION: **E**

Of course, they were nothing compared to the twins' O.W.L.s last year. "One Es and nine Os both! Oh, my wonderful, wonderful boys!" my mother had said, ruffling their hair and kissing them and choosing to deny my existence. But my marks weren't that terrible. And after all, I did once hear a rumour from a cousin about Aunt Muriel getting a T in History of Magic. Then again, I've also heard rumours that she's part banshee.

Mum just came in and yelled at me for being rude and not saying goodbye to Muriel. She also dropped off my schoolbooks. Most of them are in English, but I'm afraid my Care of Magical Creatures book is beyond repair.

I can't believe that school starts up again tomorrow and that I only have two years left at Hogwarts. I'm awfully tired of all the questions I've been getting lately. It seems that every time some friend of a cousin of a friend comes around and finds out I'm a sixth year they ask the same questions over and over. "Molly, what NEWTs are you taking?" "Molly, what do you want to pursue?" "Molly, are you going steady with anyone?" "Molly, what are you going to do after you leave school?"

I really just wish I knew some of the answers.

September 1st

**12:00 pm**

Merlin forbid we have one _normal_—one _seamless_—September 1st. It seems like every time term starts, there's some small crisis, usually related to or caused by the twins.

_A Chronicle of September 1sts Gone Awry_

**First Year: **My first year at Hogwarts I naturally expected that everything would go perfectly and so I was quite horrified when I did a final suitcase check in the King's Cross car park and discovered that instead of the "_three sets of plain work robes (black)_," which I had _definitely_ packed, there were three small frogs. F&G never owned up to it, but we all know they did it. Anyway, I ended up sobbing really hard and Mum had to Apparate home and get them, which was probably really dangerous, considering the number of Muggles that frequent King's Cross. And then on the train ride, Fabian and Gid introduced me as "Sobby—I mean Molly Prewett."

**Second Year: **Mum joked after the last year that everyone has one start of term screwup and I was lucky that I had gotten mine out of the way. Well, Mum and Dad had to go to work that day and so they just dropped the three of us off at King's Cross, which really was a terrible idea in hindsight. We stopped at the barrier and Fabian and Gid told me to go first and I went hurtling towards the brick wall…between platforms ten and eleven. I was so furious and I had a huge red bump on my head that lasted for about a week.

**Third Year: **I carefully counted the platform numbers this year and hid my suitcase from Fabian and Gid, finally determined to make sure that nothing went horribly wrong this time. At this point, Fabian and Gid were actually becoming quite talented wizards and most of the professors no longer hated them. Unfortunately, they decided to test out their new charms prowess on me and did some ridiculous type of undetectable extension charm, which made my trunk heavier and heavier as I pushed my cart. Eventually it got to the point where I could no longer push it. So Mum, Dad and I probably looked ridiculous to the Muggles as the three of us together struggled to push the trolley.

**Fourth Year: **At this point, I really didn't care anymore. I knew Fabian and Gid were going to do something awful to me and so I prepared for the worst. What was surprising about this year's prank was that they didn't even use magic and yet, it was probably the meanest one ever. They set my clock forward to 11:45 AM and when I woke up (at 8:00) to find the house completely empty, I had a small heart attack and sobbed uncontrollably until Mum and Dad came inside from their walk and found me lying in a puddle of my own tears in my bedroom.

**Fifth Year: **I can't even talk about this one. It involved a Furnunculus curse on me and a really really handsome Hufflepuff 6th year, who never talked to me again after that incident.

Well, actually looking back, this year's prank was a bit milder. I'm on the train right now and it's really a miracle I managed to even get on it. Fabian and Gid thought it would be funny (I start so many sentences like that) to "accidentally" spill some coffee on me. I was so desperate to run and go change my clothes, so I asked Fabian if I had enough time to change. He looked at his gold watch thoughtfully and told me he reckoned I had about fifteen minutes. I was so panicked that I didn't even entertain the idea that he could be lying. In reality, I had four minutes. So after I dawdled stupidly in the bathroom, I casually strolled back to the platform to find the train beginning to pick up speed. My dear friend Amelia Bones managed to heave me onto the train, and I collapsed into my seat in the compartment she had saved us.

So here I am writing on the train. Amelia's asleep now, which is good, because she never gets enough sleep. We talked for about half an hour before she dozed off, and she mentioned to me that she'd been up all night reading. It's typical Amelia really. She's the cleverest witch in our year; all the professors are always saying she'll be doing great things one day. It's a bit difficult to believe that when she's flopped over onto my shoulder drooling all over my diary, but I really do think she's brilliant.

**3:00 pm**

Poor Amelia. Right after I put down my diary, Barnabas Cuffe, a Ravenclaw in my year came into our compartment. Now, every girl at Hogwarts has been obsessed with Barnabas since the Sorting hat touched his head. He is so incredibly handsome and so smart. As smart as Amelia. Everything that comes out of his mouth is just about the wittiest, cleverest, most sophisticated thing I ever heard. Anyway, he walked in and instantly I got all flustered and fixed my hair.

"Hello Molly, you've had a good summer?" he said to me politely.

"Oh, it was charming! You?" I replied. _Charming? Charming? Bloody hell why would I say that? Word choice, Molly!_

"I had a lovely summer, thanks. Spent it with my parents in the south of France. Well they call it _le Midi_ over there. You know, Marseille, Bordeaux, Toulouse, the like. We got to do a bit of wine tasting and there were a few art gallery visits I quite enjoyed. Happy with your O.W.L. results and everything?" he said. This was obviously some sort of maneuver to get me to divulge my O.W.L. scores.

"Yes. Very. A bunch of Os. A bunch of Es." _And a P and four As_, I thought to myself. "How about you?"

"That's good. Mine weren't bad. I got one E in History of Magic and the rest Os, so I'm a bit pissed about that, but I shall overcome I suppose." Barnabas stared off thoughtfully (he does this a lot).

"Anyway, is that Amelia?" he asked, snapping back into reality as he gesturing to the tall, tight-jawed girl who was resting on my shoulder. I nodded carefully.

"I do hate to wake her up, but the Head Boy and Head Girl have been waiting for her. There's a prefects' meeting in the front compartment and we've been waiting for a while. I suppose it just slipped her mind," he said.

I could almost detect a hint of a smirk on his face; they both like it when the other screws up. I guess it boosts their own self-esteems. I shook my shoulder to wake her up.

"Oof Molly, bug off, I was having a good dream. And guess who was in it? Bar—" she muttered, not bothering to open her eyes.

"Amelia, Barnabas Cuffe is here for you," I began loudly. "I guess there's a prefects' meeting you're missing right now."

She bolted upright "Bugger!" she shrieked. I laughed and Barnabas gave her a sort of half smile and nod and they both left the compartment. As they walked through the car, I saw Amelia turn around and give me a sort of death glare.

After all of this, Emmeline Vance walked into my car and we got to chatting. She's a lovely girl really, one of my best friends. Finally, Amelia returned to our car, looking quite tired and grumpy.

"Amelia, are you ok—" Emmeline began. I had relayed to her the story.

"Shut up both of you," she sighed, smiling. "Well this is just perfect. Barnabas Cuffe thinks I'm a slob and the Head Boy and Head Girl already hate me. And we haven't even had the feast yet. This is so unfortunate."

"Amelia, what did you get on your O.W.L.s?" I asked.

"All Os," she replied glumly.

"Well, you beat Barnabas Cuffe. He got an E in History of Magic. He told me before I woke you."

Amelia definitely cheered up a little bit after that.

September 1st

10:00 pm

Amelia is going to hate me if I keep the light on for too long, so I'll be quick:

We got to Hogwarts as the sun was setting, earlier than we usually do. The castle looked so beautiful at sunset as a horseless carriage drove me, Emmeline and a slightly less grumpy Amelia. Also in our carriage were my lovely relative (I'm really not sure how we're related) Andromeda Black, a second year Slytherin (and probably the only Slytherin I actually like), and this dreadful fifth-year Ravenclaw, Rita Skeeter, who ended up in our carriage most likely because nobody else wanted her in their carriages.

Emmeline, Amelia and I said goodbye to Andromeda when we entered the Great Hall as she went to join her sister Bella at the Slytherin table, and I nodded curtly at Rita Skeeter, who rolled her eyes at me and sat down at the Ravenclaw table. The Gryffindor table was filled with the warm, familiar faces I'd missed over the summer. I saw the twins out of the corner of my eye. Emmeline sat at the other end of the table with Mafalda Hopkirk and so Amelia and I took our seats next to a fifth year called John Dawlish.

Professor Dumbledore gave his opening remarks and then announced a new Herbology teacher, Professor Sprout. Professor Sprout was a plump, very young woman, who looked no older than thirty-five or so. Anyway, I'm a little bit nervous to be taking a N.E.W.T. class with her. I have to get an E in Herbology to be a Healer and really it's a miracle I managed to get an E on my O.W.L.

And then of course there was the Sorting and Amelia grumbled the entire way through. Her younger brother Edgar was sorted into Hufflepuff, which Amelia said was normal for the Bones family, as she was one of only three Boneses who hadn't been sorted into Hufflepuff. Also sorted was my distant cousin Narcissa Black, who's Andromeda and Bella's sister. She was sorted into Slytherin, which was no surprise because there's never been a Black who wasn't in Slytherin. Somewhere between _Malfoy, Lucius _and _Runcorn, Albert_, Amelia and I lost interest and instead of paying attention to the Sorting, like everyone else seemed to be doing, we played a game of rock, paper, scissors and moaned about how hungry we were until the last first-year was sorted and finally—_FINALLY_—we could eat.

Afterwards, Amelia and the other Gryffindor prefect in our year, Tiberius McLaggen, left to go escort a group of first years to the common room and Emmeline and I walked up the staircases together and through the portrait hole. The Gryffindor common room was exactly as I had left it just a few a months ago, and I instantly plopped myself down in a squashy armchair. There are already three notices on the bulletin board, which surprises me until I realize that two of them are joke flyers (Fabian and Gid) and the other one was left from last year.

Everyone usually goes to bed pretty early at the start of term, so there were very few people in the Gryffindor common room. I recently learned how to knit, and so I've been trying my very best to knit myself a sweater, but Arthur Weasley told me that my "scarf looked very good so far", so I may rethink the whole sweater concept. Anyway, it was just Arthur, Tiberius McLaggen and me in the common room. Arthur was reading a book called _The Wizard's Guide to Electricity_ and Tiberius was eating some éclairs and playing a game of wizard's chess against himself. Tiberius really is a bit annoying, but Emmeline actually agreed to go to Hogsmeade with him one weekend last year and said he was an absolute gentleman.

Amelia's just yelled at me to turn off the lights, and I'd rather she not be grumpy again tomorrow so that's all for now. She really really needs her sleep.

A/N: So that's the first chapter. A bit all over the place, I know, but some things needed to be covered. I'm really trying to show those qualities of Molly Weasley in Molly Prewett. You may notice how she tends to put the needs of other people above her own and she has already occupies a mothering role among her friends. Review Review Review!


	2. Emmeline Needs a Tutor

September 2nd

**12:30 pm**

A sort of strange thing happened to me today. The day started quite normally. I basically had to yank Amelia out of bed. Eventually she got dressed, but she looked rather cross as we walked down to breakfast at the Great Hall. An owl dropped a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ right on my toast and splattered jam all over me, and after I assured Amelia that it was "really quite all right, this sort of thing happens to everyone", we began to read it together. As a birthday present, Amelia's parents bought her a subscription to the newspaper. I probably wouldn't have liked the present, seeing as I much prefer lighter reading, like _Witch Weekly_ and the latest Celestina Warbeck memoir, but Amelia really enjoys it. It sometimes seems like she's so smart I can hardly keep up with her.

Barnabas Cuffe and his best friend, Cornelius Fudge, another Ravenclaw, walked over to our table. Cornelius is very short and sort of round. It's really a bit funny that he and Barnabas are such good friends, because whenever Cornelius opens his mouth he trips over all his words and he can hardly seem to string a sentence together without getting all flustered. But I hear he's actually a pretty good wizard, and no doubt he did better on his O.W.L.s than I did, because, well, didn't most everyone?

"Molly, Amelia," Barnabas said, drawing out the 'e' sound in Amelia's name. "I think we have Potions together today. I hope you'll stay awake Amelia; Professor Slughorn likes you so much; we wouldn't want to spoil his opinion of you, would we?" He smiled warmly, and I smiled back, but Amelia just sat there stone-faced. I looked at her, very concerned, and told her that it didn't mean anything and that it was just a friendly joke.

When she finally opened her mouth, all she said was, "Molly, could you be a dear and pass the strawberry jam." The strawberry jam she was requesting was indeed the very same strawberry jam I had spread all over my own toast, finishing all that was left of it at the table.

"Amelia," I said. "I'm really sorry but I've just finished it. Just take my toast. I'm not even that hungry. Really!"

This is when the strange thing happened.

Amelia looked at me and the toast I was holding out, and said coolly, "Molly Prewett, you really need to learn how to say no. I mean just be a little selfish for once in your life. You're far too nice. Nothing good ever came of being too nice, you know. Merlin, it's a miracle you're not a Hufflepuff."

And then she took my toast, split it in half, dropped half of it onto my plate, and shoved the other half in her mouth.

So now, here I am, sitting here in Potions, not understanding anything about Golpalott's Third Law and wondering: _Am I really too nice? _And what was that remark about Hufflepuff supposed to mean? Not that there's anything wrong with being a Hufflepuff I guess, but I dunno. Maybe I shouldn't take her remark to heart; after all, she always says the first thing that comes to her mind. Emmeline and I joke that she has no mental filter. Because Em is a fifth year, she isn't in our class, and so I really have nobody to talk to about this because I obviously can't talk to Amelia about it. In the class there's me, Amelia, like six Slytherins I've never even met, Barnabas, Cornelius, Arthur Weasley (who is just as surprised as any of us that he managed to make it into N.E.W.T. Potions), Tiberius, and this Hufflepuff bloke Amos Diggory. Slim pickings.

**2:30 pm**

I've just had the most wonderful conversation with Barnabas Cuffe. I know it sounds like I'm madly in love with or something, and maybe I do have a tiny crush on him, but he is just so polite and gentleman-like, it's really hard to resist. Anyway, I was so bored in Potions and Amelia is up near the front of the class and it's just me, Barnabas, Cornelius and this Slytherin called Dolohov (I think. It might actually be something else _Note: Check with Emmeline; she's good with names and faces)_ in the back. So anyway, Barnabas and I were chatting and he was talking about how he had Charms next. So instantly I brightened up, because I'm really quite good at Charms and I could talk about Charms for days on end. So we had this really intelligent conversation and I felt so smart.

"Molly, you're quite good at Charms, aren't you?" he asked. I nodded back at him

"I was looking at some of the N.E.W.T. Charms course material and some of it is a little bit beyond me, I fear. For example, the idea of quintessence. What's that all about? I mean, I understand that the root of it lies in using magic to its utmost ability, but some of the theory is a bit complicated, wouldn't you agree?

"Well," I began. "It's really quite applicable if you think about it. Hundreds of years ago, in a fairly short period of time, our ancestors encountered magic, explored magic and found ways to apply magic to their daily lives. So by comparison, today's wizarding society is a bit stagnant. Certainly the peoples of the past used magic to their full potential, so I guess the big question is whether we can surpass them. And the answer is probably yes"

"So really, the question of quintessence is—" Barnabas interrupted.

"The question of quintessence is," I whispered, trying to keep Professor Slughorn on the other side of the room. "What are the farthest reaches of magic? And is it limitless and how does the user come into play?"

"So then what about blood status? Can someone like me, who's not a pureblood experience the farthest reaches of magic?" he asked me.

I was about to answer when Professor Slughorn declared Dolohov (?), Tiberius, Barnabas and Amelia the only four people who had managed to produce an effective antidote. The rest of us, he said, would have to write twelve inches on the concept of synergy and its relationship to Golpalott's Third Law.

And then class was over so I packed up all my things and left the dungeons but not before Barnabas insisted that we finish our conversation next week at the first Hogsmeade weekend. _I HAVE AN ALMOST-DATE WITH BARNABAS CUFFE AND HE TOLD ME I WAS PRETTY GOOD!_ Emmeline kindly reminded me that it wasn't really a date and Amelia and I both told her to bug off while we freaked out.

I really enjoy these free periods. Right now I'm in the library doing nothing productive, because well, when am I ever really doing anything productive? Hmm, maybe I'll make a to-do list because I like making lists, but I'm usually quite horrible at actually following through on them.

_**THINGS I REALLY NEED TO DO**_

_**(REALLY!)**_

**Potions**_:_

- twelve inches on galpalott's third law & synergy (_ask Amelia for notes they took while I was diary-ing)_

- fill out apothecary mail order form for extra supplies

- CLEAN CAULDRON!

**Transfiguration: **

- figure out what the bloody broomstick we're even doing

- find a room to practice the bird-summoning charm?

- get notes from Amelia

**Misc.:**

- find my old essays on stunning spells for Emmeline

- help dromeda mend her robes

- remind Amelia about prefects' meeting **Saturday!**

- ask mum to owl my hogsmeade permission form

- pick an outfit for date (ok, not really a date) with BC

September 3rd

**9:00 am**

Emmeline is nervous that she's going to fail her Charms O.W.L. so I've agreed to help her out by tutoring her during our overlapping free period, which is today. So we're in the library again now, reading some of the fifth year course materials and trying to come up with a pneumonic device to help her remember all the different variations of the Shield Charm.

Anyway, Tiberius McLaggen just came in and told me that Professor McGonagall wanted to see me in her office. Professor McGonagall is the head of Gryffindor, but she's so young that it's a little weird to even consider her a professor at all. She teaches Transfiguration and she's really a brilliant witch, but I've had probably less than four conversations with her, so it's odd that she wants to see me in her office.

**9:45**

Professor McGonagall is actually a bit nice. Stern, of course, but nice. I walked into her office and she was in the middle of writing something furiously on a piece of parchment. She must have been writing fifty words a minute; I don't think I've ever seen someone write so fast in my entire life.

"Hello Miss Prewett," she said, not looking up from her writing. "How are you doing today? Making good use of your free period, I expect?"

"Oh yes of course," I replied timidly. I was a bit nervous seeing as I still had no idea why she had asked me to come into her office.

"Good," she said. Finally she dropped her quill and gave me a searching look. "Well, as you know of course, you'll be leaving school in just two years, and believe me when I say they'll go by very fast. Now, I know we discussed this at the Careers Advice session last year, so my notes tell me that you were interested in working as a Healer?"

"Yes, very interested."

"Good, and it seems you did well enough on your O.W.L.s to take the N.E.W.T. level classes you need to take, so that's all right then. Now, unlike several other fields, there are a few additional requirements you would need to meet to become a Healer. Of course there's the written test given by the Ministry's Department of Magical Education, but I've talked to a few recruiters and they'd like to start seeing candidates with early experience in healing. Now, I do understand that you will be busy in your sixth year, however I do think that it would greatly behoove you to follow this advice. Madam Pomfrey in the hospital wing has kindly agreed to allow several students interested in healing to observe and assist her three times a week and I have already informed her that you shall be participating. In addition, I implore you," she emphasized the word 'implore', "to please apply for the St. Mungo's apprenticeship program."

The Healer who had talked to me at the Careers Advice session last year had mentioned the apprenticeship but I had completely forgotten about it until Professor McGonagall had brought it up. And I couldn't even remember what the Healer had even said.

"Er, Professor McGonagall, could you tell me a little bit more about the program?" I asked nervously.

"'St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries," she began reading from a memo, "invites Hogwarts' sixth-year and seventh-year students to apply for acceptance into the hospital's reputable apprenticeship program. Through the program, students will be able to spend portions of their Christmas and Easter holidays at St. Mungo's, experiencing the lives of Healers and Mediwizards firsthand as they learn important lessons about medical magic. In addition, selected students will be responsible for completing required reading and attending various lectures and seminars, half of which will take place at Hogwarts. The other half will require the students to obtain transportation to—' We've arranged transportation by Floo network already—'St. Mungo's. After each reading or seminar, students in the apprenticeship program will complete mandatory summative essays, which will be used to observe progress in the program. Those who participate extensively and show outstanding performance on these essays will be given preferred treatment in the hiring process after they graduate."

She sighed and slid the memo across her desk so that it was facing me. It really did seem like the opportunity of a lifetime. I would be a fool to turn it down. But the year was going to be so busy. How could I have enough time to do it?

"So, would you like a copy of the application?" she asked me, clearing her throat.

I paused. "Erm, yes. Yes, thanks!"

And my curiosity got the better of me. "Who else are you talking to about all of this?" I asked.

"I am only offering this to the students who expressed any interest in becoming a Healer at the Careers Advice session last year. An unusually small number in your year. Only you and eight other people in the entire school even mentioned Healing as a possibility. I've just been going in alphabetical order, so I've already talked to Miss Crockford in Hufflepuff, Mr. Cuffe in Ravenclaw, Mr. Fudge in Ravenclaw, Mr. Lovegood in Ravenclaw and Mr. Poke in Hufflepuff. After you I'm still due to speak to Miss Strout in Slytherin and Mr. Weasley in Gryffindor, of course. Now, I really have quite a bit to do Miss Prewett, so unless there's anything else…Here's the application, please have it sent by owl post by the first of October."

"How many people are they going to select?" I asked. Certainly if Barnabas and Cornelius were in the running I was already knocked down a few pegs. And Miriam Strout in Slytherin knows a whole lot of people at St. Mungo's because her mother works there."

"They have told me that they will most likely be selecting four of the nine people applying, but rest assured that even if you are not chosen to be a part of the apprenticeship, you may still very well have a future in Healing. And I will add right now that Miss Crockford has as much a chance of being selected as your brothers do of avoiding detention from now until Christmas. Her marks simply aren't up for it. And no doubt, of course, that Mr. Lovegood will say something ridiculous on his application that will cause them to discard it, so I would say your chances are fair. However, Mr. Cuffe has outstanding marks, which I am sure they will appreciate and Mr. Weasley's marks are quite impressive as well and he knows a few people at St. Mungo's. You cannot get your hopes up Miss Prewett, but I urge you to apply and to make the application the best it can be. Remember that you will need _two_ letters of recommendation from your professors. Now I still have to talk to the other two, so that'll be all Miss Prewett, good luck." She swallowed, raised her eyebrows and sighed, writing more furiously then she had before.

So I'm back in the library absolutely freaking out because I want this so badly but it's highly improbably that I'll get it. Emmeline and I have decided to take a break from Charms and instead are evaluating every candidate for the apprenticeship:

**Barnabas Cuffe: **

I didn't even know he was interested in Healing, but with marks like his, I can't imagine that he wouldn't be accepted. ~Molly [100%]

_This is a nice little diary, you know? I think Barnabas is just applying to the program for the sake of getting in. He seems like the type to do that ~Em _[_100%]_

**Doris Crockford:**

McGonagall basically said she wasn't going to get in. [10%]

_You know she got a T on her Potions O.W.L.? _[_5%]_

**Cornelius Fudge:**

I really can't tell whether he's smart or not. I mean he's in Ravenclaw, but I've really never heard him say something intelligent. He's probably got average marks. [50%]

_I KNOW! He basically has no personality. I think he's actually pretty smart though_ _[64%]_

**Xenophilius Lovegood:**

McGonagall also predicted he wouldn't get in [10%]

_He is the weirdest person I have ever met. I once sat near him at a Quidditch match and HE WOULD NOT SHUT UP ABOUT NARGLES! What even is a Nargle? [10%]_

**Rutherford Poke:**

Never talked to him before. [Can't say]

_He's really nice according to my friend Hestia, but I don't think that's really a factor [Can't say]_

**Miriam Strout:**

It is basically impossible for her not to get in, she is very smart and both of her parents are Healers [100%]

_Yes, I've heard her saying she literally knows everyone at St. Mungo's and she gets really good marks, I've heard. But Professor Goshawk doesn't really like her [98%]_

**Arthur Weasley:**

He's a very sweet person, and he has good grades and connections at St. Mungo's as well, so I'd say he has a fair chance [80%]

_I've always liked Arthur! But I don't really talk to him that much! All I know is that he was really bad at Potions and good at everything else, but I guess he's in N.E.W.T. Potions so that's not bad then! [85%]_

**Molly Prewett:**

No [0%]

_Oh shut up Molly won't you? You worry too much and you don't realize how smart you are! And all the teachers love you too! [10000%]_

Thanks, Em.

And then we practiced a few Shield charms and she's getting a bit better. But she'll need the extra tutoring. So she just left and now I need to think who I'm going to ask for a letter of recommendation.

**Professor Babbling**: Probably not. She likes me and I got an O on the O.W.L. but Ancient Runes isn't really relevant to Healing.

**Professor Goshawk: **I'll definitely ask her, as Charms is my best subject. She's working on a new series of Charms textbooks so I should ask her now before she becomes too busy to write it.

**Professor Merrythought: **She only un-retired for a year, and we don't know each other very well, so most likely not.

**Professor Sprout: **I haven't even had a class with her yet.

**Professor McGonagall: **I guess I _could_ ask her, but I'm a little bit afraid honestly. Imagine if she said no? I think I'd die.

**Professor Slughorn: **I'm pretty awful at Potions but I think he likes me? No, okay he really doesn't.

McGonagall it is, I guess.


	3. Fabian and Gideon Need to Cut It Out

September 13th

**11:30 am**

So I know I skipped several days of writing, but I've just been so busy and I'm about to go do the most intimidating thing I've ever done in my whole life.

_I have to ask Professor McGonagall to write a letter of recommendation for me._ The task is daunting of course, but Amelia is telling me to man up, and although I'm really not sure that phrase works well in my case, she's completely right. Why should I even be scared? She's only like fifteen years older than I am! But it's still so nerve wracking…

I talked to Barnabas about it and he's going to ask Professor Goshawk and Professor Slughorn. I'm not surprised that he's asking Professor Slughorn, seeing as he's madly in love with Barnabas (okay, not really). Basically, Barnabas has managed to do what so few can accomplish: he has won admission into the Slug Club. That's not an official name or anything, but it's what students call the group of overachievers that Professor Slughorn spots and woos, determined to receive several favors once these students have gone on to achieve great things. Amelia is also one of them, but I haven't been so lucky. Just the other day in the corridor, I said hello to Professor Slughorn and he called me Ellie.

Anyway, before I ask McGonagall, because she isn't in her office yet, I must discuss my new post as 'Hospital Wing Assistant' as it has been very interesting. Barnabas (who is far too busy with his ten N.E.W.T. classes) and Doris (who no longer wants to be a Healer, but rather an Auror, as of Wednesday) decided to opt out of hospital wing volunteering, so there are only seven of us, and Madam Pomfrey has us split up into groups so that our group of four works Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and the other three work Sunday, Monday, Tuesday. In my group of four are Arthur Weasley, Xenophilius Lovegood (he's asked us to call him Xen), Miriam Strout, and me.

Wednesday was very exciting because there was a bit of an accident at a first year flying lesson with Hufflepuff and Slytherin. Edgar Bones (Amelia's brother) was flung from his broom while he was in the air and so he had a bit of bone damage. And then this one Slytherin first year called Albert Runcorn came in a few hours later and Madam Pomfrey said she figured he had Black Cat Flu! Madam Pomfrey's in charge of course, but she lets us help her so much and it's become so fun. Amelia thinks it's funny that I'm getting excited about people being injured, but it's just that I'm so happy to be able to look at all these amazing injuries. When I told Amelia her brother was in the hospital wing, she shrugged it off and kept eating her toast.

I know I say I hate Fabian and Gid a lot, but if anything happened to them, I really don't know what I would do. In Amelia's defence, Edgar's injury was nothing a little Skele-Gro couldn't fix. But still, I think I would probably be panicking if one (or both) of the twins were in the hospital wing.

Now that I've affirmed that I do love my brothers, can I just say that they really get on my nerves sometimes? So, speaking of Fabian and Gideon being in the hospital wing, they have adopted a new, and rather annoying hobby. Ever since they found out I've been helping out in the hospital wing, they've been doing this thing where they feign ridiculous illnesses and specially request that I tend to them. I'll look like a monster if I refuse to tend to them in front of Madam Pomfrey and then they've become quite good at human transfiguration so they can change their hair color and nobody will notice that it's them. And they've managed to add all these boils and pustules to their faces to make it really convincing. And so I look like I'm absolutely evil when I act all angry and cold with them.

So yesterday I got into a huge shouting match with Fabian while he was bedridden with "spattergroit" and Arthur, Xen and Miriam were giving me all these weird looks. This morning Gideon had a "bad case of scale rot" ("Gid, you absolute dolt, that's something that salamanders get!" I had yelled). And then he abruptly was overcome with a nasty flu. I had a free period and Madam Pomfrey had to go to Hogsmeade for supplies, so I agreed to man the hospital wing while she was away. Fabian and Gideon were two beds apart from each other and so I went and lay in the bed in between them. Albert Runcorn was the only other person in the hospital wing and he was fast asleep.

"So, Molly," Gideon said, grinning and helping himself to some of the chocolates Albert Runcorn's friends had left him. "How's sixth year treating you?"

"Alright." I took one of the chocolates Gideon had grabbed. "Might be a lot better if you weren't in here every bloody ten minutes, but I can't imagine that's a possibility."

"No, it's not," said Fabian. He was playing with his watch, which was something he did quite a lot. He took it off his wrist and swung it around on his index finger. The watch was really quite beautiful, gold with stars as the clock's hands. He had gotten it for his seventeenth birthday when he became of age, and Gideon had the same one but in silver. "But really," he said. "You're having an okay year? Nobody's giving you any trouble?"

"No, not really."

"Alright, well, Molly, Fabian and I have something to discuss with you," said Gid, very somberly, which was rare because he hardly ever said anything somberly. "We've heard in the corridors that you and a certain Barnabas Cuffe are now an item and we're a bit miffed that you didn't ask us for our approval."

"Your _approval_?" I snorted.

"Our approval, our blessing, our permission, or what have you," said Fabian.

"First of all," I snapped. "I shouldn't need your approval to be in a relationship with anyone. You have no right to make those decisions for me. I can make them myself, thank you very much. And second of all, you're completely wrong about Barnabas and me. We're just friends. All we're doing is going to Hogsmeade together tomorrow; it's really nothing."

"Really nothing?" Gideon said. "Oh, Molly, you poor, naïve girl. First a date in Hogsmeade, then you're snogging in the Gryffindor common room, and then 'Bam!'" he snapped his fingers. "You're Molly Cuffe!"

"Shut up!" I moaned.

"No can do, my dear sister. But other than you having to go to Hogsmeade with a complete prat tomorrow, are you having a good sixth year?"

To my surprise, I let out a giggle. "Yes, now please go back to class. I hereby deem you both cured of spattergroit or scale rot or dragon pox or whatever today's ailment is."

"Thanks, Mol," they both said as they got up from their beds, took a few more of Albert Runcorn's sweets and began to leave.

"If you ever need us to do something—"

"Or if you explicitly need us to not do something—"

"Either way, we'll get it done!" called one of them as they turned past the door of the hospital wing. I couldn't tell which one it was.

Professor McGonagall just walked into her office! And now I must go in! Wish me luck!

September 13th

**1:00 pm**

Well, she said yes. Of course it was terribly awkward and for the three seconds in between the time I asked and she answered, I really did feel like I had both spattergroit and dragon pox. But she was quite nice about the whole thing and she even told me she was surprised I hadn't asked her at our meeting last week. Anyway, and I asked Professor Goshawk a few days ago for a letter and she told me she'd be delighted to! Anyway, now that the letter-asking is over with, I still have to fill out the application form which still has a few short answer questions that I have to respond to, testing basic Healing knowledge and interest. Some of the questions are sensible, like:

_What is a side effect of pepper-up potion?_

I could answer that in my sleep. But then there are some strange protocol questions like:

_Patient X:_

_Age: 43_

_Height: 5'11_

_Weight: 195_

_History: Patient X attempted to use a live animal in one of his potions. The cauldron exploded and the animal gave Patient X a serious bite, which has now also led to a contagious malady (Patient X's spouse has diagnosed it as scrofungulus). In addition, a great deal of potion spilled on him, which has left rashes all over his body. Patient X's spouse unsuccessfully attempted to rid him of the rashes herself and has placed a seemingly unliftable jinx upon him. _

_To what sort of specialist Healer should Patient X be referred?_

_A) Artifact Incidents_

_B) Creature-Induced Injuries_

_C) Magical Bugs_

_D) Potion and Plant Poisoning_

_E) Spell Damage_

Amelia and I are probably going to wake up early and go to the library to finish working on the application. I'd ideally like to send it in by the end of the week, but Miriam's already sent hers in!

TOMORROW is my (not really) date with Barnabas! And I've been so busy with school and hospital wing-ing that I haven't had time to select an outfit. I've gained a rather unflattering amount of weight since fourth year and none of my old dresses fit me anymore. So I can either wear the new green shift dress I got from London this summer or Dromeda said I could borrow her purple patterned dress and then I'll wear it with the white coat I nicked from Mum.

At least seven or eight girls have stopped me in the corridors and for several minutes just gushed about Barnabas and how lucky I was to be going out with him. Cyra Macmillan must have gone on for seven straight minutes!

September 13th

**6:45 pm**

After we had picked my dress and decided to rely on Sleakeazy's for my hair, the three of us went down to the common room, which was unsurprisingly crowded and bustling. Nobody had anything due the next day, and so the Gryffindors were all happily chattering away in various corners and pockets of the room. Amelia left us to go talk to John Dawlish, whom she has been spending a great deal of time with lately.

Emmeline and I were left next to Tiberius McLaggen and Florean Fortescue. Florean's a really great kid, a very smart fifth year. He's the only Gryffindor I know who is on track to take History of Magic at the N.E.W.T. level, and is probably the only student Professor Binns actually enjoys teaching. Florean could talk for hours about medieval witch rebellions, but he's quite an interesting person. His great-great-great-great-great grandfather was headmaster of Hogwarts some years ago.

Tiberius and Emmeline went off somewhere, the most recent development in the never-ending saga that is their relationship. No doubt she'll have something interesting to report back at the end of the night. Anyway, that left me with Florean, whom I felt like I hadn't seen the entire year.

"Hello Molly!" he said to me, the way Florean always does, in a booming and friendly voice. "You've been avoiding me. I haven't seen you all year!"

"Hello Florean," I sighed. It was nice talking to Florean, comfortable.

"How's your mother doing? Still at Flourish and Blotts?" he asked. The Fortescues were good friends of my family, but it had been over a year since I had last seen Mr. and Mrs. Fortescue.

"She's been promoted to manager of the Diagon Alley branch, actually."

"Oh that's splendid! And is your father still heading up Magical Games and Sports?"

"No, he's actually left the department and moved to senior staff of International Magical Cooperation about a year and half ago, but he really likes it there."

"A bit quieter, eh?" Florean chuckled.

"Right." I gave a weak chuckle back but I wasn't really sure why either of us was laughing.

"It's a good time to be working in that department. It's a happy time, peaceful. We've been doing an interesting project in Professor Binns' class: examining fear in a historical context as it relates to all sorts of troubles like Dark Magic or inter-creature warfare." Florean saw my attention start to fade. "Anyway, all our research points to this period as being relatively conflict free. But something will happen soon. Nothing ever stays this calm for too long."

"Are you thinking of coming back here to teach after you leave Hogwarts?" I asked teasingly.

"It's a bit of a long story," Florean said very somberly, as we made our way over to a quieter corner of the common room. "I'm not really telling many people this, but I guess we're old friends. Molly, there's a large chance I'm not coming back to Hogwarts next year."

I quickly turned my head to look him in the face. "What? You're joking! Flor, what are you talking about?

"My parents were both in a bad work accident this summer." Florean's parents are Magizoologists. "It was pretty bad, I guess and there isn't really much money with them both out of work and any money we do have is going toward their hospital bills and paying someone to watch Portia while I'm at school and they're in the hospital."

"Florean, your sister will stay with us," I insisted, "with my Mum or something. Portia can, er, help out in the bookshop."

"That's lovely of you, but I don't think that would work. Your family's got enough to worry about. I mean there are still another five years before Portia goes to school and I'd love to work and teach history here but it's not like Professor Binns is leaving anytime soon."

"So what, Flor? You're just going to drop out of school? You don't have to be such an adult. You're only 16. What about your N.E.W.T.s? And you're probably Quidditch captain next year, right? And Professor Binns would die if you didn't come back! Figuratively, I guess."

At this point he looked pretty miffed, and maybe I should have backed off but I just couldn't believe he was actually considering this.

"All those things just sound so trivial with everything else that's going on. Money really does screw everything up. But I don't expect you to understand, Molly," he said. He paused for a moment and then quickly brightened up, in a way only Florean could. "So how's Uncle Ig doing?" 

We talked for a bit more, but over and over in my head, I just kept hearing "I don't expect you to understand," and it killed me.

September 13th

**11:15 pm**

Em is sleeping in our dormitory tonight, which she sometimes does, and I'm pretty sure it's not against the rules or anything. Just as I predicted, another chapter was added to the Em/Tiberius story.

Emmeline, being a teenage girl, is of course obligated to tell her friends every last eensy detail of any encounter with a boy and so Amelia, me and the other Gryffindor 6th year girls (Philomena McDermott, Basil Midgen and Agatha Begbie) gathered around Em as she told her story, albeit with a few embellishments.

**EM**: So Molly and I were in the common room and we were walking and Tiberius gives me this look like 'We need to talk'.

**AMELIA to ME (whispering): **Pretty sure that didn't happen.

**EM: **Did you say something, Amelia? No? Okay, anyway our eyes met and connected and instantly we just sort of clicked and walked over to that area behind the stairs that nobody knows about.

**BASIL: **What area behind the stairs? Is there an area behind the stairs?

**EM: **My point, exactly. And so he sat me down and at first he was just telling me about his summer. It was pretty boring really, he just went hunting and stayed over at Cornelius Fudge's a couple nights. And then he asked me about my summer and I told him all about it and then there was this awkward pause and we just looked into each other's eyes and then…

She paused for an extra dramatic effect.

**PHILOMENA: **Emmeline, stop it! You can't tease us like this! What happened?

**EM: **He told me he missed me this summer and he wished we had gotten to see each other!

Agatha, Basil, Phil and I all squealed delightedly while Amelia scoffed and rolled her eyes, making no effort to hide the fact that she was highly annoyed by our girlishness.

**AMELIA (dryly): **Big whoop. Pretty sure Molly and Florean had the same conversation.

**AGATHA to AMELIA (jokingly): **You're just jealous because the only boy who ever liked you is Professor Slughorn.

Agatha meant nothing by it; she and Amelia are actually quite good friends and even Amelia laughed at that one. But I had to consider that Agatha was sort of right. Most of Hogwarts' males were a bit intimidated by Amelia's intense personality, and quite honestly I couldn't blame them.

**EM: **And then I told him that I had missed him also and we just talked about our relationship and how we feel about each other. It felt so comfortable and relieving to tell him the way I felt and it was so nice to know that he felt the same way about me. And we just talked and talked for hours!

I was happy for Em, though Amelia and I both exchanged surprised glances. Their relationship had never really escalated past anything physical before.

**EM: **And then we snogged for a bit.


End file.
